Kill the messenger
by Goldie Locks is dead
Summary: Unlike him, she was an assassin for all the wrong reasons.While he did it for justice and liberty,she did it solely for it's riches After both assassins receive a mysterious letter, they go on a mission only to discover they had been sent to kill one another by the same person. In search of the man who wanted them dead,the duo form a relationship on uncertain grounds.
1. Chapter 1

This story contains a large amount of sexual frustration and pent up aggression so beware.

**Summary: ****She was an assassin just as he was but for all the wrong reasons while he did it for justice and liberty. She did it solely for the riches it offered. After receiving a mysterious letter the two assassins go on a mission only to find out they had been sent by the same person to kill one another. Now in search on the man that wanted them both dead the duo form**** a relationship on uncertain grounds; will he be able to survive her devious and kittenish ways and she his dynamic sarcastic ego?  
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><p><strong>Kill the messenger<br>**

**"Prologue"**

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><p><em>His eyes were as cold as steel in the gloomy darkness of the Boston night; the man in the blue coat watched from his position on the shipment yard with the look of stratagem painted on his old features as he watched a menacing white hood shuffle past the few Bostonian's that inhabited the street. A devious smile tugged at his thin pink lips, the mysterious man held a small neatly folded piece of paper between his pointer finger and thumb careful not to wrinkle the letter.<em>

_The white hooded man that he had his sights on for the past few minutes was walking in the direction of the shipment yard. Old leather boot clad feet trudged against the damp ground that had been hit by the sudden drizzle that poured from the sky hours ago. **  
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_"Wait Sir!" The old man quipped, if he didn't act fast the hooded assassin would have passed him without a moments thought. Complying with his request the assassin stopped, the older man squinted his eyes trying to get a better view of his face but it was obscured by his hood only revealing the scowl he bore._

_"What?" The assassin spoke his voice was cold and unambiguous obviously not interesting in mere conversation._

_The old man held the letter in his hand up to level with the taller mans face. "A letter." he spoke a faint English accent escaping from his lips. The assassin furrowed his eyebrows from beneath his hood, standing still he eyed the letter in the mans hand with a questioning look. "From womb?" the assassin asked._

_The man shrugged "Haven't the slightest clue." He stated analyzing the slip before handing it over. The assassin watched as the man retreated onto the far side of the shipment yard and round a corner. Confused by the event that just transpired, he fingered the red wax and opened the letter, allowing his dark eyes to skim over the fancily written words. The sender had remained anonymous but the enclosed message had been clear enough. It was a mission that required his immediate attention..._

_ Folding the parchment, he tucked the letter into the pocket on the inside flap of his coat and stalked purposefully for the docks with only one goal in mind: to find a woman named Dahlia and prevent her from trafficking weapons into the city by eliminating her.'_


	2. Meeting you

**Warning This story contains a large amount of sexual frustration and pent up aggression so beware. Also I'm not really good with fighting scenes but practice makes perfect!  
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**I would like to thank my favorite person in the world tinkerbell265 make sure you go checkout her stories because they are the bomb, like literally the best friggn' stories you'll ever read! I swear even God reads her stories. **

**Summary: ****She was an assassin just as he was but for all the wrong reasons while he did it for justice and liberty. She did it solely for the riches it offered. After receiving a mysterious letter the two assassins go on a mission only to find out they had been sent by the same person to kill one another. Now in search on the man that wanted them both dead the duo form**** a relationship on uncertain grounds; will he be able to survive her devious and kittenish ways and she his dynamic sarcastic ego?  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Kill the messenger<br>**

**"Waiting"**

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><p>She peered out at the New York pier from the rooftops; she had a mission that had to be completed and if it was done right, a vast amount of gold would surely be in her future. The plan was simple; find and kill Connor Kenway. She didn't know who he was but based on the letter she had received from a strange man two days prior, he would stand out in the crowd. And since it was the dead of night and the area was empty, the only person to walk the streets had to be him.<p>

As much as she hated to admit it, she was a kleptomaniac -stealing from people then giving what she stole to others in exchange for money. It was one of her many weaknesses and as sad as it sounded, she wouldn't mind stealing a life if the price was right.

Minutes that seemed like hours passed to no end when suddenly her breath hitched in her throat after she heard footsteps nearing the location across from her. Crouching further into the shadows, she moved along the roof of the structure to get a view of the menacing white hood she had been told about. The only features she could make out was his muscular build and staggering height. Her tongue ran across her lips as if she were a lion hungry for a gazelle. Leaping from the rooftop with her motions as swift as a cat she landed on her feet with a soft 'thud', going unnoticed by her target.

Her fingers tingled with a deadly mischief, letting them ghost toward the handle of her weapon. The woman loved when her victims put up a fight - so killing him on sight would just ruin the 'fun'. Pacing her way towards Connor, she grinned with elation. Preparing for an attack, she bent her arm and swung her elbow, letting it collide with his back before causing him to gasp for air and stumble forward.

Since her attacks were always quiet and spontaneous, her targets usually never saw her coming.

"Your a dead man walking, Mr. Kenway." She purred deviously. Connor regained his posture and whipped his head around to come face to face with his attacker but before he could retaliate, her fist came in contact with his left cheek.

"Argh." Connor groaned, obviously staggered by her next move. Flexing his jaw, Connor returned the blow, eying the woman angrily. Never in his life had he hit a woman but the way she was tossing him around the pier made him force his hand. Entangling his fingers though her long, thick, curly hair, he flung her across the ground. She tried to get herself on her hands and knees, into a position so she could jump back onto her feet, but her plan was ceased when Connor's heavy foot was pressed against her back, causing a pained scream to escape from her throat, Connor looked at her with perplexity. Yes he was applying pressure on her back but not enough to make her squeal in pain.

"Who are you? Why are you attacking me?" Asked Connor, his voice deep and demanding. He was on a mission and that mission was to wait for the woman and the redcoats to arrive so he could stop her from smuggling weaponry into the coast. Even though there was a woman here, the Englishmen were nowhere to be seen.

Cursing underneath his breath, Connor felt something sharp slice at his skin and rip through the leather of his boot. Somehow, she had managed to remove the small dagger from her waist belt and slash him with it. Moving his foot from her back, the cold air stung the wound she had just inflicted on him.

The woman got to her feet and winced under the residual weight where Connor's boot had previously been forcing her down. Shaking the feeling off, she swung her foot in the air only to have her opponent instinctively catch the strike in his left hand as if he were catching a ball.

"Answer. Me." Connor spat through his clenched teeth. Keeping quiet, a small grin fastened on her full lips. She violently snatched her foot from her opponents grasp and withdrew her machete from it's holster before allowing the blade to slice though the air. Connor reacted without hesitation, doing the same with his tomahawk. He didn't want to kill her, at least not without knowing who she was and why she was trying to do the same.

She ran towards him with her weapon held high in the air -like a lioness going in for the kill.

Their blades clash against one another, frail sparks igniting between the two weapons, causing the blades to glint under the contact. The woman raised her machete once again and brought it back down. Connor blocked it with his armed hand, then shoved it forward, hoping to push her off balance but she stood her ground, unhindered by his retaliation. She quickly swung her machete up towards Connor's shoulder with precise skill, but he immediately parried the attack with ease and countered it with a slash to her middle causing the tip of his blade to lightly fringe the fabric of the short corset that rested over her blouse. She blocked and as the clang of metal against metal was heard, he spun her blade around and flung it to the right.

Connor's tomahawk flew to her head. She automatically focused and defended herself, deflecting his blade to the left and away from her body before launching herself almost full force into a series of blows and thrusts. Conner countered each with concentration. Adding a few combinations, he now focused on her moves. She was good.

"You're hard to kill, Mr. Kenway." She admitted in a low whisper as she thrust, cut, sliced, then jabbed while Connor repelled the whole time. She landed a small nick in his arm, blood staining his long jacket but not before Connor nearly sliced through her neck. A last second block deflected his slash with time enough to land her with only a small cut below the neck. He attempted a middle-body stab but she again defended herself with a chop and a swing before they both flew backwards and out of reach.

As she ran towards him, an astute plan conjured in his mind. Waiting until she was only a foot away from him, Connor extended his leg, his actions going unnoticed by the woman causing her to trip and fall to the ground. Before she could get to her feet again, Connor immediately dropped on top of her while pressing the blade of his tomahawk against her throat.

"I do not like repeating myself."Connor said, slightly short of breath from the quick witted fight he had just been forced into.

"Then I suggest you don't." She managed, despite the sharp object he had pressed against her neck and glared at her, irritated with her brassy response.

"...Who are you and why did you attack me?" He questioned just as he did before. The woman pressed her lips together not saying a single word. She didn't have to explain herself to him. Connor grimaced, the blade of the tomahawk digging even deeper into her skin causing a small speckle of blood to trail down her throat and pool between her collarbone.

Wincing, the woman let a deep breath escape her lips, "Someone hates you enough to want you dead..." She murmured. Connor narrowed his eyes. Sure, he had plenty of enemies but none of them had gone as far as to hire an assassin to take him down.

_Assassinate the assassin_, Connor thought to himself, feeling a great sense of irony.

"Who?" He questioned, somewhat infuriated with her response. The woman bit her bottom lip unsure how to answer. Connor's nostrils flared. This quiet game she was playing on and off with him -it wasn't helping her situation. Pushing his free hand up, he grasped her hair and pulled so that her head leaned back and her neck arched deeper into the blade.

"I-I do not know...I got a letter."

"A letter?"

"Yes. It said if killed you, I'd get the rest of my pay." She answered honestly.

Connor growled, disgusted by her greed. Aside from the fact that someone put a price on his head, this woman had been willing to kill him and collect the bounty without a second thought. Her lust for money made him want to drive his blade into her jugular but he couldn't. He needed more answers.

"It wasn't coin." She answered, her deep, brown, doe eyes boring into his.

Connor raised his brow in confusion, "Then what exactly?"

"Gold jewels and diamonds...I received some, along with the letter." I could be wrong, but isn't gold and coin the same basic thing? It's still money, right? Ummm... I'll look into it and get back with you.

Connor was confused, which seemed to be happening more and more often lately... The fact the he and Dahlia had received letters two days prior was very strange to him. He hadn't been offered pay for her death, but whoever sent the letter must have known, that unlike Dahlia, he wasn't easily swayed by things such as gold.

"What is your name?" He questioned.

The woman wiggled beneath his weight but she remained stuck between his body and the cold ground. She never spread word of her name but she had no choice; it was either answer his question or die. She muttered, "Dahlia" softly.

"Dahlia?" He repeated questioningly.

"Yes. Are you hard of hearing?" She replied, her voice filled with a sardonic tone.

"Dahlia" His conscious repeated. Closing his eyes for a split second, his mind went back to the letter, "If you wish to stop the weapon trade from happening, then Dahlia must be eliminated." His demeanor instantly changed from a state of shock and confusion, to anger and remembrance.

"The weapons! where are they?"

**TBC...**

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><p><strong>Dun, Dun, Duuuuunnnn! <strong>

**Once again thank you to ****tinkerbell265!**


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